


Hypochaeris Radicata

by idiotbrothers



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brief references to Piper/Alex and Piper/Larry, Drunk Piper, Episode Tag, F/F, Light Angst, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiotbrothers/pseuds/idiotbrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never calls her 'Crazy-eyes'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hypochaeris Radicata

"Do you wanna go see the movie tonight together?" 

Dandelion's face is bright, eyes looking almost crazy in the fluorescent lighting with how eager she is. (Crazy eyes.) Suzanne hopes her own face doesn't reflect how eager she is at the question, tries to school her features into something grim and impassive, like tall Vause's default expression. It must not work all that well, because when Vee catches her eye behind Dandelion's back, she looks disapproving. Suzanne blinks, eyes flickering from Vee to Piper. Vee's words come back to her as she thinks, straining for the right answer.

_Bunch of little girls running around here with bad attitudes_. White-girl Piper. Dandelion. She'd hurt her, she knew she had, laid her out bruised and bloody, though she can't remember now why she'd done it. _She'd_ put a fist through that face. Pretty face that she'd been drawn to when Piper had first gotten here, looking jangled and off-kilter and jumping at shadows, like Suzanne used to do when she was little. Not anymore though, barely at all anymore. But she'd punched Dandelion.

_You are a garden rose, and that bitch is a weed_.

She isn't, is she? If _Suzanne_ isn't a weed, it just doesn't seem rational to call Piper one. Unpredictable spark-plug girl who does damage where nobody expects it, skinny young thing like her, she'll be in and out in seconds and keep her head down the whole time, pretentious white bitch. Got a loud voice on her that comes out of nowhere, shakes her frame--Suzanne's heard it, knows it probably bowled over Doggett, the voice in tune with her brittle hands, more powerful than they look, seeking blood. Weeds don't stand out. Then again, dandelions do spread their seeds like a virus, hundreds upon hundreds of them all reaching outward, near impossible to get rid of. Deceptively pretty. Maybe Vee is right after all.

"Suzanne?" There is a quiet undertone of pleading to Piper's voice. (She never calls her 'Crazy-eyes'.) Suzanne swallows, her throat sandy. Casts Vee a nervous glance, because what if she picks the wrong answer? What will happen? Like everything else, it could turn out real bad. She'd have to be punished for it. Suzanne's wanted a friend here for years. Not a wife, anymore. Just someone willing to talk to her like she isn't as unstable as she is. That someone could be Vee, maybe. _You hold your head up high, you hear me?_

Maybe. But something, something doesn't feel right. Nobody helps Suzanne. Why is Vee doing it, when she's known her for even less time than Piper has? _Nobody_ helps her. 

_Suzanne, you_ saved _me_.

_I am so grateful to you_. 

"Okay, Dandelion. I'll go with you." The worry melts off Piper's face, replaced with a quicksilver burst of relief. "Thank you, Suzanne." She leaves, pleased smile carved into her face. Suzanne's own inadvertent smile falls off when she returns her gaze to Vee, who's frowning and shaking her head, marching away with big steps like she has somewhere to go. Maybe Suzanne picked the wrong answer. Doesn't matter. She tells herself it doesn't matter this time, because Piper may not be her wife, but she smiles at her like she's her friend. 

* * *

Suzanne's trying half-heartedly to watch the movie, but she doesn't even know what it's about, hasn't been able to focus since it started, because it's dark and Dandelion's sitting next to her again and she's not supposed to touch her this time. From so close, she smells like deodorant and a little bit like plywood, possibly a remnant from her shift in Electrical. Suzanne surreptitiously sniffs her armpit, wishing they stocked perfume in commissary. _Just friends_ , Suzanne mouths to herself as a reminder, pinching her arm in an effort to clear her head and tune in to whatever it is everyone's laughing about on the projector screen.

"That was better than usual, right?" Piper asks when they're done, walking out of the auditorium together. " _Yes_ ," Suzanne says, accidentally overemphasizing the word because she doesn't even know the name of the fucking movie, let alone whether or not it was any good. Piper raises her eyebrows at her, but says nothing, walking on, one step after the other. Suzanne pulls on a piece of her hair anxiously, her other hand jittering at her side. Too anxious. Why is she anxious? She doesn't love Piper anymore, last time she checked. Too lean and mean and willing to crunch bones and talk tough, no good. It isn't good for Suzanne to be around that, she knows.

It'll spread to her if she sticks to this girl, bring out that hot, messy part of her that hides inside her skin and comes out without her permission sometimes, gets her thrown in Seg, in Psych, disappointment welling up thick and inky every time because she couldn't stop it even though she _knows_. Piper isn't worth it, this girl who told her fiancée all about her--( _the kind of person who belongs in a psychiatric hospital, not a prison_ )--and who had rejected her already, more than once.

"Suzanne, are you okay?" Dandelion's voice, interrupting, always interrupting. _You're a smart, strong, black woman_. Suzanne stops yanking at her hair.

"I'm a garden rose." She lifts her chin at Piper, like Vee showed her, doing her best to smooth out her frown. Piper's brow furrows. "What?" 

Suzanne deflates, resisting the draw of her hand to her forehead. "Nothing." Vee got it wrong, she thinks. (One time when she was little, she crushed her mommy's roses under her shoes, trampled them to bits, smeared the bleeding petals through her hands and picked out all the thorns, made a pile out of them but didn't transform them into anything new. Her mommy thought it was blood on her hands when she saw her, started crying afterward, and Suzanne didn't know if it was for her or the roses.) "Listen, Suzanne..." Piper enunciates, careful, too careful with her now. Like the others are. 

"Listen," She repeats, "Do you wanna...come to my bunk? We could talk. Just a little bit." Suzanne widens her eyes. "I, um, I gotta clean--"

"It won't take long. I'm--I need...someone to talk to." Ah. They are the same (but mostly different). "Okay."

They reach Piper's bunk and Red isn't there, the other cot deserted, silently greeting them when they walk in. "Hold on," Piper says, and Suzanne does, confused and wishing she could do something with her hands. Piper lifts her mattress off its frame and rummages underneath it, coming up with an opaque jar with the label peeled halfway off. She unscrews the lid and holds it out to Suzanne after casting a wary glance to the fringes of the cube. "Oh," Suzanne says, peering at the murky liquid inside. She catches a whiff of it, potent and sour, and wrinkles her nose bewilderedly at Piper.

"I saved some of the stuff that Washington shared after Tricia...passed," She explains, but that isn't what Suzanne is inquiring about. Piper looks around once more to be sure there are no C.O.'s around before asking, "Would you like some?" Suzanne shakes her head rapidly and puts her hands behind her back, making Piper jump ever-so-slightly. "No," Suzanne says, "No, I shouldn't. I'm not allowed." The corner of Piper's mouth lifts. "Well, technically, I'm not either." 

(Can't.) "I'm _trying_ ," Suzanne says, too loud before she quiets herself, "I'm trying to be good." Piper nods slowly, says, "I see. That's--that's good, Suzanne." Suzanne's jaw tightens, because that's pity there in Dandelion's eyes, soft and curdling, familiar in the way that a relative whose face you've grown to hate is. Suzanne breathes out through her nose and watches Piper take a sip from the jar, wincing and twisting her lips at the taste. "Sit down, Suzanne," Piper suggests after she's conformed herself to the burn of the hooch, taking a seat herself and patting the spot next to her on the mattress. Suzanne does so hesitantly, watching Piper as she takes another careful sip, spluttering a little.

"Your girlfriend," Suzanne starts, and Piper whips her head around, "She's gone?" Piper's expression goes cold. "Yeah, she is. Out there on her own now, because she had to go and fucking. Lie to me, again." Suzanne nods, swinging her legs gently. "Did you talk to her?" 

"No, and I don't want to. Can we--forget about Alex? I don't wanna think about her right now." 

Suzanne purses her lips in consideration. "What _do_ you wanna think about?" Piper's mouth wobbles precariously, and she takes another sip, more aggressively this time, a drop streaking down her chin. "I don't. I don't."

Suzanne waits for her to elaborate, but she doesn't, focusing solely on the jar until she's drained it several minutes later. She turns to clumsily shove the empty jar under her pillow, hiccuping and stifling a yawn. "Tell me somethin' about you, Suzanne. Your turn to talk." Her face is too close to Suzanne's now, pungent breath wafting right up her nose. Suzanne scoots a teensy bit away from her on the mattress before answering. "I like to sing," she offers, not knowing what else to say. "Really?" Piper squints at her, graceless hand pushing her dandelion-yellow hair out of her face.

"But at the Christm--Chris'mas pageant...you were..."

( _You know shit is bad when the mute has to save you_.) Suzanne screws her eyes shut and inhales--wash that all away, doesn't help you any to remember, you're making things worse on yourself. ( _Go ahead, how's it go? How does it go? Like this? Am I doing it right?_ ) 

"Shut up. Shut _up_." 

"Oh, Suzanne, I didn't mean..." 

" _Stop_." Piper shuts up, and they sit for a while, Piper lilting tipsily against the wall and Suzanne counting in her head like she was taught to, good girl. "Larry broke up with me, you know." Suzanne unclenches her teeth. "Who's that?" 

"Larry, my--my fiancée, the man on the radio the other d--" Piper pauses mid-word, hand suddenly outstretched like she's trying to calm an animal. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't've brought that up. Th'was stupid of me." Dried-up dandelion with the puff blown off. "He find out about your woman?" Piper's face morphs into a mask of sadness within the space of a second, mask of crumpled lines and leaky pupils. "He's never gonna forgive me."

She's crying, palms against her eyes. "All gone, I f-fucked it all up...I'm such a..." Suzanne feels a thin reed of panic whistle through her chest, has no clue how to comfort people when they sag like this, take pieces of themselves off and hold them out to her like a jar of hooch. "You ain't so bad, Dandelion." Piper sniffles loudly, snot peeking out of her nose. "I _am_. I am, and I'm still not getting it." Suzanne doesn't know what she means by that, so she ignores it, trying for more comforting words. 

"Hey. Hey. It's like Vee said," (It isn't at all like Vee said), "You gotta keep your head up, 'cause there's a lotta weeds out here, y'know? A _fuck-ton_ of weeds. And maybe you're one of 'em, that's just how it is, but even if you are, you can _choose_ where you grow. Do you get that?"

Piper stares at her, tear-tracked cheeks glistening and eyebrows at half-mast. "Suzanne, I..I...have no idea what the hell you're talking about." Suzanne sits back and sighs. Much ado about nothing, like the play. She's about to maybe break her self-imposed rule and make contact, just a hand to Piper's knee, a show of support, when Piper leans in close, closer than she should, and her mouth is on Suzanne's.

Fleeting press of dry lips and then she pulls away, the picture of regret. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Suzanne. Won't do that again." Suzanne bites her lip, runs her tongue over it uneasily. There's a pearl of warmth nudging at her but she doesn't want to examine it too closely.

"Do you...want to do it again?"

She's afraid to hear Piper's answer, can't listen to any more rejections and her fingernails are digging into her thighs. There's no answer for a long minute, and then there is, Dandelion's hands framing her face and her lips meeting Suzanne's. They kiss each other breathless, shifting on the mattress for easier access, and Suzanne's heart is beating out of her chest, the salty taste of Piper's tears on her tongue.

It feels like it's over before it even starts.

Piper turns to the side, breaths evening out and eyes on the floor, guilty flush on her skin. "I think I'll...I think I'll go to sleep now. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Suzanne is weighted down again, smacked back into reality with all her past rejections ringing in her ears, and she knew it, didn't she, knew it was a bad idea. She stands, wants to wipe her mouth but it can wait until she's gotten out of here. Piper looks haggard, gray and dented and like she's hung over already, like the breadth of all her decisions is just now sinking in. 

"Good night, Suzanne." 

"Goodbye, Dandelion." 

**Author's Note:**

> Hypochaeris radicata, a plant otherwise known as a "false dandelion". It is commonly mistaken for a true dandelion, as both plants carry similar flowers. The false dandelion's flowering stems, however, are forked and solid, whereas dandelions possess unforked stems that are hollow.


End file.
